


Mama's Love

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angel!Reader, Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff, Knotting, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15844359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: The reader is an angel who ditched her wings and ended up falling in love with Sam. She’s the Omega to his Alpha and when his grief leads them to a happy accident, they have to figure out what to do next.





	Mama's Love

You were used to running. Since abandoning your post in Heaven and taking up with the Winchesters, it had practically become a daily routine. Of course, since they’d found the bunker, it had been easier. And spending so much time in close quarters with Sam, researching, reading, hunting -

It was only natural that something would develop between you.

An angel in an Omega vessel was just as susceptible to the influences of hormones, especially one who had refused to use her grace for worry that it would lead the rest of Heaven right to her. You suffered through the worst of it, using human medicines that didn’t have much effect but was enough to take the edge off. Being an angel made it easier - if the original occupant of the vessel had still been alive, the pain would have been excruciating.

Dean avoided you when you were in heat; he was a Beta but it still affected him. Castiel had surmised once upon a time that your grace amplified the effects to others, something he’d continually warn you about considering that the younger Winchester was Alpha. But Sam never left. He’d stay and suffer through, keeping his own biology under control with medications that would surely do more harm than good.

Until both of you snapped. Dean had taken his leave, Cas was nowhere to be found and you couldn’t help yourself, begging for Sam’s help as the pain became too much for even you to withstand.

An entire night wrapped in his arms, feeling his warm skin against yours, his cock filling you more than you’d thought possible. The heat had passed with nothing but pleasure, although Sam refrained from leaving a permanent mark on your throat when he knotted you.

You had no way of knowing what consequences laid within that action.

When the heat was done, you’d quickly discovered that your feelings for Sam ran deeper than you’d initially thought. While it seemed he was satisfied that the job was done and nothing more was said of it, you spent hours thinking of “what ifs” and “maybes”.

Fear of those feelings and the ultimate rejection of them drove you away from the bunker and away from the Alpha who had calmed the turmoil in your heart for the first time in years. You were an angel. You didn’t know love, not like humans did, not like you thought it should be.

Months of solitude left you miserable, missing both brothers and the home you’d slowly built in their bunker. You hunted, stayed away from anything that looked remotely angelic and refused to use your powers. It was back to running, hiding, hoping no one would find you.

You knew, of course, when Dean got the Mark. There was no hiding that sort of occurrence and when he died, you felt it. A ripple through the fabric of reality, something dark and foreboding that sent you back to Kansas with fear in your heart for the younger Winchester and his brother.

Now, you were stood at the door, hesitating, wondering if Sam would be angry to see you or relieved you’d come home.

But the bunker was empty.

“Sam?” Your voice bounced off the walls, filling the quiet space in between and you searched the whole building, finding no sign of life. The food in the fridge was long past its use-by date and the Impala wasn’t in the garage.

Curling up in the middle of Sam’s large bed, you finally found some rest, surrounded by the faint lingering Alpha scent.

*****

“Y/N?”

Your eyelids were stuck together and you groaned as you forced them open, wiping at the encrusted skin. Looking up, you met Sam’s concerned gaze and the shock of seeing him had you tumbling off the bed in your haste to get up.

One large hand wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you to your feet. “Y/N?”

Slowly, you nodded and for a second, you expected his anger that you were there. Tears sprung into his multitudinous eyes and you weren’t sure how to process when his arm crushed you against his chest, his heavy sobs almost frightened as he buried his face in your hair.

“Where have you been?” he asked, desperation in his voice.

“I -” You stopped before you could say anything. There was no logical reason for why you’d literally run away. The fear of rejection that you’d let nestle into your belly was gone, now you’d seen the expression on his face when he’d laid eyes on you again. “Anywhere,” you whispered.

Sam didn’t say anything, clinging to you like a limpet to a rock. His fingers were practically digging into your skin but you didn’t care, allowing yourself a moment of respite in his hold. When he pulled back, his eyes were red.

“What happened to your arm?” you murmured, eyes falling on the thick black sling holding the injured appendage in place.

He glanced down, looking a little sheepish. “Demon got the jump on me,” he explained. “Dean - he’s -”

“I know,” you admitted, turning away. “It’s why I came back. I tried to track him but… he’s powerful and I was worried and -”

“He’s in the dungeon,” Sam offered lamely. You blinked, staring at him, wondering how he managed to capture a knight of hell when he clearly wasn’t in top form. “I had some help. He’s… he’s a demon, Y/N.”

You nodded, sighing heavily. “I know,” you repeated. “Are you going to cure him?”

“I have to try,” Sam murmured, turning away, running his hand through his long hair. It had gotten longer since you’d last seen him. He glanced back over his shoulder at you, the hint of a smile on his lips. “I missed you.”

It was like a catalyst, three simple words that changed your entire demeanor and in a very un-angelic fashion, you burst into tears. Sam’s expression crumbled and he returned to you, wrapping his good arm around your shoulders again. “I’m so sorry,” you cried, smushing your face into his broad chest. “I ran away because I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” he asked, puzzled at the explanation.

You swallowed, forcing the words out of your throat, struggling to maintain eye contact as you looked up at him. “How much I cared about you.”

For a second, you watched as Sam’s expression went from confused to sympathetic and quickly, you found yourself pressed against him again, this time, his lips were crushed to yours. You surrendered instantly, a rush of euphoria sending you sky high as your bittersweet reunion dragged out. “I missed you, so much,” Sam breathed, barely parting from you. “You have no idea…”

“I do,” you interrupted. “I missed you too.”

“Then why disappear?” Sam asked, desperately. “I thought… I thought the worst and Cas couldn’t find you…”

You pulled back, guilt swallowing every ounce of joy you’d felt seconds before. “I know how to hide, Sam. I’ve been doing it a long time. I’m not like Castiel, I know this world.” His eyes were filled with confusion when you met them. “I can disappear if I need to.”

“Are -” Sam swallowed, his voice shaking. “Are you gonna disappear on me again?”

And there it was. You’d come back out of concern, to help with Dean but it appeared Sam didn’t need the help. So what did Sam need? What did you need?

“I don’t know,” you admitted, pulling away when he tried to catch your hands. “I don’t know what this is, Sam. We’re… we were friends and then…”

“Is it because I didn’t claim you?” he asked, frowning and you shook your head with an immediate response. “Then what did I do wrong?”

“Why would you think it was you?” you retorted, confused at his sudden martyr complex. “Sam, you didn’t do anything. It was me. It was my feelings that sent me running because I was scared and I was…” You sighed, looking away. “I was an idiot and I was miserable without you.”

“Then don’t do it again,” Sam begged, pulling you close. “Don’t, please. I… I need you.” The words out came out like a defeat and you stared at him, not moving away but not making any move to get closer. “I need you, Omega.”

Something reverberated in your chest at his words and you reached up, cupping his face, feeling the days of stubble on them. “Need you too, Alpha,” you whispered, closing the distance between you to kiss him softly. Sam moaned against your mouth, sliding his hand through your hair and holding you tightly.

“Don’t leave,” he murmured, nuzzling your cheek.

“I won’t,” you rasped back, clutching at his shirt. “What about Dean?”

Sam sighed, closing his eyes. “I don’t know. The cure is our only option right now.”

“Then let me help,” you asked and Sam smiled, cupping your cheek. “I want to help. He’s my friend, Sam. I…”

“I know,” he assured you. “And we’ll figure it out together.” He kissed your temple, giving you more hope for the future than you’d seen in a long time. “He’s going to be unconscious for a while.” His voice lowered, becoming more sultry and you recognized the dark expression on his face.

You poked his shoulder and Sam yelped loudly, prompting you to smirk. “Not happening while that arm is bad, buddy.”

*****

There was no time. Even when Dean was finally cured of the Mark, you were met with an even older adversary, one that led you face to face with your own creator. So many questions and no time for answers. It was only luck that saved you from having to release Lucifer, going to the literal ends of the Earth to save Sam from his clutches.

Everything was down to Dean now.

Sam was a mess and you didn’t know how to help him. You were clueless, having never felt the sort of loss he was feeling, facing a future without the only person who’d been constant in his life. It didn’t feel like you were an adequate replacement.

The woman waiting for him at the bunker hadn’t been expecting you. She’d banished Castiel without a second thought but you were a complete surprise. One that ended with her bound in the dungeon, Sam’s bullet wound healed from your touch, the only circumstance in which you would use your grace.

“What did she want from me?” Sam asked, watching you clean the blood from his pristine skin. You shrugged, finishing the job, trying not to linger in the fact that he was topless and your heat was a hair’s breadth away. “What do we do with her?”

“She’s restrained,” you murmured, situating yourself on the bed next to him, stretching your legs out beside his, one arm over his bare stomach and the other tucked underneath your side. “We’ll worry about it in the morning.”

“Did you get a hold of Cas?”

With a nod, you nuzzled against his chest, sighing heavily. “He got blown to Wisconsin. He’ll be back soon.”

Sam didn’t say anything after that. He was grieving still, lost without his brother. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. Your heat was due and you could already feel the haze of need curdling in your belly. But it wasn’t the time. Sam was exhausted, emotionally and physically.

He fell asleep before you did.

You woke to hands around your waist, holding you firmly against a hard body, the definitive Alpha arousal pressed against your ass. Sam’s lips were on your neck, ghosting over the fading mark he hadn’t renewed in weeks.

The doubt in your mind at what he needed right now was warring with the rising temperature of your skin, the heat in your belly. “Sam -”

“Ssh,” he soothed, lifting his head as you rolled yours back to look at him. “Need you, ‘mega.”

Oh, this was not the time for his rut. Had weeks of stress, not getting a single moment together, sharing your space with other people, other entities, led to this? His scent was thicker than you ever remembered it, like a drug forcing your body to react.

Sam’s hand was between your thighs now, pressing them open so he could get at you. You could feel the slick pooling in your panties, seconds before he was pushing your pants down. At some point, he’d already removed his clothes and he smelled fresher than he had - maybe he’d showered?

Cognitive thought fled your mind with the first touch of his finger against your slick folds. Your pants and underwear were tangled around your ankles, and you attempted to shed them as Sam dragged you back harder against him.

“Need you,” he repeated, forcing his knee between your legs and rolling you onto your belly. Your lungs protested as he crushed you into the bed, his cock slipping against your pussy. You gasped for air, clinging to the sheets as Sam lined himself up, pushing home with no foreplay, not that it was needed.

He didn’t wait for you to adjust, knowing you could handle the more physical roughness, although you didn’t assume his mind was on anything but this at that moment. Sam’s hips slapped against your ass audibly, his mouth leaving slopping kisses along the straps of your vest, using his teeth to tug them out of the way so he could get at you better.

“Wanna knot you,” he murmured, his voice a throaty growl that made you shiver. “Fill you up,” he continued, slowing his pace so you could feel each inch of his cock splitting you open. “Breed you.”

Your eyes snapped open and cognitive thought returned. “Sam,” you whimpered, “we can’t -”

His hand curled in your hair and you gasped at the pain. “Need it.”

“No, Sam,” you begged, trying to fight back your raging hormones. “Sam, we can’t, we talked about it…”

“Don’t you want it?” he asked breathlessly. “Want me inside you, filling you to the brim? All you gotta do is let go, ‘mega, I’ll make you feel so good.” His teeth scraped over your throat, pressing down enough to make fireworks explode behind your eyes with the promise of his mark. “Please -”

You closed your eyes again, going quiet so you could only hear the squeak of the bed springs and Sam’s harsh breaths, hot air cascading against your shoulder as he kept fucking you. His knot was already thickening inside you and the desire for more kept your protests silent.

“Alpha…”

Sam growled, sinking his teeth into your skin and you screamed, clenching around his cock. His knot popped, filling you completely, forcing your orgasm as he pumped thick streams of cum into your belly. For a few moments, you laid there, Sam’s weight pressing you into the mattress, his mouth still over his mark on your throat.

He didn’t pull away until his knot allowed him but even then, Sam remained close, kissing your shoulders as you shivered through the afterglow.

“Sam,” you whispered, forcing yourself away from him. “That…” His eyes were focused on yours and you exhaled softly, cupping his face. “You’ve lost a lot.”

“Can we just -” He laid on his side, one arm loosely draped around your waist. “Talk about it later?”

You nodded, curling into him. “Yeah. Yeah, we can talk about it later.”

*****

Later didn’t come. Time was not your friend and by the time Dean returned, Sam and Castiel had managed to get all the information they needed out of the blonde woman that had invaded the bunker. The British Men Of Letters were sticking their nose into American hunting and their first stop was the Winchesters.

Of course, you’d known since the second it happened. It wasn’t immediate and it took a few days for you to notice the changes.

Sam had got his wish, albeit at the worst fucking time possible.

Both boys were preoccupied with the return of their mother and the ensuing family drama, which left you dealing with the problem alone. Castiel was the first to see it, constantly frowning at you until you had to pull your angelic brethren to one side and warn him to keep his mouth shut.

Angels didn’t swear all that often. So it was slightly more shocking when you told him without hesitating that you’d fucking crucify him if he said anything.

Three weeks had passed before you had the right opportunity to tell Sam the news. He was researching the monster-of-the-week in the library, nursing a glass of scotch and you watched him from the doorway for a few moments, smiling softly at the outline of his profile in the dim light.

“Sam?”

He turned instantly, his expression of concentration turning to a smile when he saw you, like it always did. You crossed the room towards him, sliding into the opposite chair. “Hey,” he whispered. “Is everything okay?”

Taking a breath, you reached across the table, taking his hand. “Remember a few weeks ago, after the fight with the Darkness?” He nodded, frowning as he tried to scramble the memories in his head and you exhaled. “You were in rut and…” How were you supposed to explain it to him? To tell him he’d gotten what he wanted at the worst possible time?

“I was in rut,” Sam said slowly, his fingers tightening around yours. “And I…” His eyes went wide. “Are you telling me that -”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “You got your wish.”

The room fell silent as Sam processed what you were telling him, a mixture of horror and wonder on his face. “You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you replied, looking away. “I can sense it, feel it… Cas did too.”

“And he didn’t say anything?” Sam frowned and you felt more than a little sheepish as you admitted that you’d threatened the other angel with bodily harm. There was a tinge of amusement to his expression and you met his eyes again. “What do we do?”

You dragged your hand away from his, missing the hurt in his eyes. “I don’t know. It’s… it’s not in me to destroy an innocent life, Sam. But this… this is a sin against everything I was created for. Nephilim are -” You hated the word and didn’t want to say it, but you had to. Your voice cracked as you spoke. “They’re an abomination.”

Sam watched you for a moment before standing abruptly and for a split second, you thought he was going to walk away. Instead, he rounded the table, sitting next to you and pulling you into his arms. “Nothing that came from what we have could be an abomination,” he murmured, cupping your face and kissing you softly.

“Other angels won’t think that way,” you cried, pulling away from him. “They’re going to hunt us down and kill us.”

“No,” Sam defended, keeping hold of you. “It’s a baby, Y/N. It hasn’t done anything wrong.”

You could feel tears in your eyes now, the depth of your connection to the rapidly growing child inside you almost shocking. “They won’t care.”

“Then I’ll protect you,” Sam announced, scowling at the definitive nature of your words. “We’ll protect them. Dean, Cas, Mom… they’re not gonna let anything happen.”

“You can’t know that,” you said dejectedly. “Only three Nephilims in history have ever existed and they’re all dead, killed by angels.” Your eyes dropped, despair filling your heart. “One of them was killed by Cas.” Sam’s hands tightened on your shoulders. “We don’t know what is going to happen.”

“How long do we have?” he asked. “How far along are you?”

“Three weeks but Sam…” There was a lump in your throat. “Nephilim babies grow faster. We’ve got five months. At the most.”

His expression was unreadable and you felt little hope as he stood up, pacing the room, running a hand through his thick locks. “The bunker is safe. No one can get in here.” You shook your head at his words, knowing that the bunker defenses would not withstand a full angel attack. There was nowhere that was 100% safe from the enemies you knew would now be chasing you.

Sam would come up with every plan conceivable. But you knew there was only one course of action.

It was a good thing you were used to running.

*****

By the sixth week, you were showing, a bump clearly defined underneath your sweater. You hadn’t left the bunker, too afraid of being detected and Castiel had already been accosted by other angels, demanding that you be turned over for your sins.

You realized that the trouble was more than just the one child when their heartbeats became distinguishable to your own. Cas kept a close eye on you, determining that both babies were healthy, communicating with them in much the same fashion as you did.

Sam spent hours researching with the little material and lore he could find on angel-human hybrids before he came up with a idea that was risky and not guaranteed to either work or get the angels off of your back. Dean agreed with him but you weren’t so sure. Castiel sided with you.

“Sam, you’re talking about physically hurting them,” you stated calmly, one hand on your growing belly, feeling the urgent little kicks inside your body. “Taking away an angel’s grace is painful.”

“But they would be regular kids,” he argued as Dean nodded beside him. “We extract their grace and get rid of it. The angels would have no reason to pursue them.”

Castiel frowned. “Maybe the children would not be nephilim anymore but that would not diminish the fact that their mother has conceived them. Heaven will not stand for the disobedience.”

“Yeah, well, fuck heaven,” Dean grumbled, dropping himself into a chair. “These are my nephews we’re talking about. If this keeps them safe, gives them a chance at a normal life -”

“There’s nothing normal about having a Winchester for a father and an angel for a mother,” you remarked snidely, sneering at him, ignoring the hurt you caused in his eyes. “It’s too dangerous. I’m not letting anyone come near my babies with anything sharp.”

The threat in your voice was enough to silence the room for a moment until Dean piped up with a suggestion. “Can’t we do it before they’re born?” You glared at him and Sam scratched at the back of his head, unsure of the answer.

“We can extract Y/N’s grace,” Castiel said suddenly. “If we extract her grace, she will no longer be an angel.”

“I don’t want that,” you countered. “Without my grace, I can’t protect them. And besides, their grace is separate. The angels will still want them.”

“You’re not leaving us with many options,” Dean growled and you stood up, slamming your hands on the table. “Y/N, we gotta do something -”

You turned away, storming off and Sam glanced at Dean apologetically before following you, trailing you to the room you shared with him. The door almost slammed in his face with your rage and he was silent as he entered, watching you seethe on the bed.

“You gonna tell me I’m being stubborn?” you asked, glaring at him but Sam didn’t respond, moving over to the bed and toeing his shoes off, sitting himself propped against the headboard. He sat quietly, watching you, until the dam broke and you burst into tears.

Crawling into his lap, into the safety of his arms, you let the tears come, sobbing against his shirt as he held you. It took awhile for the crying to pass but Sam was patient, kissing the top of your head and soothing you through the agony of your decision.

“You know whatever happens,” he murmured, “I’m here and I’m going to keep all three of you safe.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised and you nodded, letting your eyes close.

*****

“What the hell is this place?” Dean asked, shining his flashlight around the intricately carved stone walls, trying to ignore the pained whimpers from the small cot on the other side of the room. Sam looked up from where he sat next to you, holding your hand and grimacing as the bones ground together.

“It is a place of ancient worship,” Castiel explained, one hand placed on a particular rune. “Some of these are designed to keep angels away. Others are for demons. It was most likely a refuge during the dark ages.”

Dean turned away from his angel friend, looking back at his brother. “And they’re not gonna find us here?”

You shook your head, sweat coating your brow as another contraction hit you, wracking your body with pain. It had been a long four months - Sam had insisted you remain at the bunker for the first few weeks but when three angels broke through the warding, you’d run to one of the only places you’d ever known to be safe. “They won’t find us. The runes are ancient, older than I am. God gave the knowledge to the earliest men when Lucifer posed a threat.”

Sam cried out at the same time as you did, an audible crunch signifying at least three broken fingers. Castiel crossed the room, pulling the younger Winchester away and healing the injury before taking his place. “My fingers are more durable than yours,” he deadpanned as Sam cradled his fixed appendage.

You crushed Cas’ hand just as easily.

“How long?” Dean murmured, keeping a watch on the entrance.

Castiel placed his hand on your swollen belly, concentrating even as you squeezed his broken hand again. His teeth ground together audibly before he growled; “Not long. A few minutes at most.”

“Sam,” you whimpered and the Alpha was at your side in a second. “Promise me -”

“Don’t start talking like you’re not gonna make it through this,” he ordered, stroking your hair back from your forehead. “You’re strong and our babies,” you cried out as another contraction hit, making Sam wince as Castiel’s hand was once again brutalized, “our babies are gonna need you, okay?”

You managed to nod through the tears, just as your body told you to push. Dean watched like he was going to be sick and his phone rang, pulling him away from the scene. Sam ignored it, staying by your side, wishing it could be over quickly.

“When the babies are born, we should extract their grace as quickly as we can,” Castiel muttered, his face a mask of pain. “It will be less traumatic for them. Only a small incision is required.”

“You’re sure it won’t hurt them?” Sam asked quietly, not taking his eyes off of your face as you labored through the agony of childbirth.

“It won’t hurt them,” Cas assured.

Dean returned, holding his phone in his hand. “Mom,” he explained when Sam glanced at him. “She’s back at the bunker. Angel’s trashed it but she’s putting the warding back.”

“Is she safe?” you asked, panting heavily and Dean nodded. “Good. Because she’s about to be a grandmother.”

*****

Two little bottles sat on the library table and you stared at them, feeling oddly bereft. The bottles were filled with a luminescent substance that swirled and pulsed, each labelled with “O” and “L” respectively.

Footsteps made you turn and Sam smiled as he walked up. “Hey,” he greeted, slipping his arms around your waist. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you murmured back, turning into his hold and pressing your face into his neck. “Are they -”

“Sleeping,” he reassured you, lifting your chin so he could kiss you softly. “You did good.”

You gave him a dry look. “If I’d been conscious when Castiel touched them, I might of killed him.” Sam sighed, kissing your forehead. “I know, I know, it was necessary.”

“When they’re older, they can make the decision. Until then,” he reached around you, picking up the two vials and pocketing them, “these get locked away somewhere secure.” You nodded, keeping your eyes on his shirt pocket, contemplating your own angelic grace. “What?”

“I’m still going to be a target,” you muttered. “I’ve broken one of the worst laws there are for angels.”

“Do you regret it?” Sam asked.

“No.” You shook your head. “I could never regret them. Ever. But… it might be safer if I remove mine too.” Sam frowned, not understanding your reasoning. “If I take it out, hide it, with theirs…”

“What about protecting them?” he interrupted, repeating your reasoning from months before when removing the babies’ grace had first become a subject. “Oliver and Lucas can grow up without it. They don’t need it. But you’ve been an angel for a millennia, Y/N. Can you do without it?” You fell silent, unsure of the answer to that question. Sam pulled you close, kissing you gently. “You don’t need to decide now. We’re safe. If it becomes an issue -”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” you whispered. “Together.”

Sam smiled, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Together,” he agreed. “You should get some rest.” A shrill cry echoed down the hall and he chuckled. “Or maybe not.”

You took the lead, heading towards the nursery, where your three-day-old twin boys were supposed to be sleeping in their respective cribs. As you walked into the room, Oliver, the source of the cries, quietened and Sam grinned as he walked in behind you.

“I think he just wanted his mama,” he commented, watching you pick up the small blue bundle, cradling him against your chest. You smiled, staring down at your son’s eyes, so much like his father’s. As you watched, distinct chatter echoed in your head and you raised your eyes to meet Sam’s. “What?” he asked, frowning.

“Angel radio,” you muttered, walking towards him, bypassing Lucas who slumbered on, little fists either side of his head. “They’re calling off the search.”

“That’s good, right?”

“For now,” you hummed, rocking Oliver in your arms. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”

Sam shook his head, pulling you close and cradling Oliver’s head with one large hand. The baby boy cooed and dribbled, making both of you smile. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

*****

Your doubts about Dean’s babysitting abilities were growing with each wobbly step Lucas took away from his uncle, chubby baby feet padding on the floor of the mancave-slash-playroom. Oliver sat on the playmat, one hand strangling the life out of a stuffed cow, while the other filled his mouth, his laughter at his brother’s escape making dribble coat the little fist.

“I’m gonna be fine,” Dean assured you, turning and scooping the younger of the twins off of the floor, balancing him on his hip. Sam rubbed your shoulder, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever. “These guys are easy and you need some time to yourselves.”

Oliver was instantly reaching up, little hands opening and closing as he begged to be picked up just like his brother. Sam reached down, hoisting his eldest from the playmat, smiling as the child promptly smacked him on the nose with his wet fist. “I think they’re happy to spend time with Uncle Dean,” he commented when Oliver stretched from his father’s arms.

Dean took him, propping a kid on each hip and you nodded, still not happy about leaving the twins for too long.

“Look, you’re going to a movie. You’re gonna eat some fast food, maybe have a drink or two and you have my full permission to fool around in the back of the Impala,” Dean dismissed, although his eye twitched as he spoke. Maybe he wasn’t entirely comfortable with that idea but then, he didn’t know how many times you’d already fooled around in the back of his precious Baby. “These guys and me are gonna watch some Scooby Doo, eat some baby rice and then sleep all night.”

Lucas shrieked happily, grabbing hold of Uncle Dean’s ear and tugging, hard enough to make him grunt and you smiled, stepping forward, holding out a finger to Oliver, who latched on to it, gummy smiles aimed at you. “Be good,” you ordered softly. Oliver drooled onto his shirt, grinning at you and you stroked his chubby little cheek with one finger. “You’re sure -”

“Go!” Dean commanded and the twins mimicked him with loud shrieks.

Sam had to force you from the room. “Stop worrying. Dean’s great with them. He has our numbers if anything happens. Guarantee we’re gonna find all three of them asleep on the laz-ee-boy when we get back.”

He wasn’t wrong. Dean was slumped in front of an old episode of Scooby, boths his nephews curled into his sides with their fingers clutching at his faded Zeppelin shirt when you returned.

“Shouldn’t I put them to bed?” you asked, eyes focused on the sleeping 18-month-old boys and their uncle, who was drooling just as much as they were. Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “We can’t leave them there -”

“They’re perfectly safe,” he insisted, closing the door. “C’mon, Y/N.” His hands took hold of your shoulders, pulling you close, your body flush with his. “It’s been too long since I’ve been able to touch you, Omega.” You groaned, tipping your head back as he started to kiss along your throat. “Let me take you to bed.”

Sam slid his hands down, cupping your ass briefly before hoisting you into his arms, carrying you through the bunker corridor towards your shared bedroom. All worrying thoughts fled your mind as he kicked the door shut with his foot, almost stumbling on his path to the bed.

His fingers tore at your clothes as eagerly as yours shredded his; you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this horny. Sam waited on your schedule, ever the gentleman, but it seemed he was ready to shuck that image and ravage you like a beast.

You moaned when his hand pressed between your thighs, stroking your soaked folds until you were whimpering his name under your breath. Your nails dug into his bare shoulders, mouth open in a gasp against his throat, teeth teasing a bite but not quite getting there. Sam growled, sinking one slender digit into your pussy, feeling your body clench around him.

“Sam!” The sound of his name was a desperate cry that had him thrusting a second finger inside you, curling them to stroke over that one spot that made your hips jerk and your stomach churn. “Oh fuck, Sam, please, fuck me.”

“Ah, ah,” he teased, leaning up over you, his long torso affording him the stretch to keep his fingers inside your body, pumping slowly. “Haven’t had the chance to enjoy my Omega recently,” he growled, sucking one firm nipple into his mouth. You hissed as the sensitive flesh reacted to his touch and Sam smiled when he tasted sweetness on his tongue. “Haven’t had a taste…”

Throwing your head back in frustration, you tried not to cry out when Sam turned his attention to your other nipple, treating it the same as he had the first. “Sam, I need your knot inside me,” you begged, writhing underneath him, words turning to whimpers when he added a third finger, opening you up for his sizeable cock.

“No,” he scolded, releasing your breast with a wet plop, licking his lips noisily. “There’s no rush.”

“But -”

Sam’s eyes darkened and you swallowed around the lump in your throat. “You don’t need to be so impatient,” he chided, thrusting his fingers lazily. “We’ve got time. Wanna take you apart bit by bit.” Your eyes rolled back and you whined, clenching around his fingers. “I don’t know how you do it,” Sam murmured, returning his mouth to your breasts. “But you are one sexy mama.”

You giggled at the comment, watching him trail kisses down between your thighs. “You think I’m a MILF, huh?”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “I wish Dean hadn’t taken it upon himself to teach you what that meant.”

“I’m not clueless, Sam,” you whispered back. “And I’m not shy either.” Reaching up, you slid your fingers through his hair. “I need your knot, Alpha,” you hissed. “Need you buried deep inside me, filling me to the brim with cum. It’s all I can think about.”

A low groan rumbled through Sam’s chest and he lurched upwards, kissing you passionately, withdrawing his fingers from your pussy and lining his cock up. With one hard stroke he was balls deep inside you, both of you grunting in completion.

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, breathing heavily as he let you adjust to the size of him. “Made for me.”

You smiled, dragging him into a kiss. “Yeah, I was. Now, fuck me, Alpha.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice, rolling his hips and seeking another kiss from you, only breaking away to gulp down air. His skin slapped noisily into yours, sweat clinging to both of you as you chased your mutual high. Sam kissed along your jaw, stopping when he reached his mark on your throat, and you shuddered.

“My sweet Omega,” he purred before biting down hard enough to break the skin, leaving thin red imprints of his teeth in an oval mark. The sensation triggered your climax and his followed immediately after, his knot locking the thick shaft of his cock inside your body as he pumped load after load of cum into your belly.

You hummed happily, sighing when he pulled you into his arms. “When you were talking about having another baby,” you started, “I didn’t think you meant to start right now.”

Sam smiled against your shoulder, looking up at you with lidded eyes. “I couldn’t help myself. After you told me you’d removed your grace… all I can think about is seeing you all round with pups again.”

“It’ll be the full nine-months this time around,” you murmured, letting your eyes fall shut. “Hope you’re ready for that.”

“With you?” Sam replied. “I’m ready for anything.”


End file.
